


anything made of porcelain will do

by orphan_account



Series: along the invisible curve [3]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-03
Updated: 2010-10-03
Packaged: 2017-10-12 09:37:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>3rd work of "along the invisible curve"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_November, 2001_

 

To be completely honest, it hadn't been planned. Not that they hadn't both known what would happen if they did make it an afternoon date, but they hadn't planned it.

What had been planned had been a revision session for the Biology test that was scheduled on Friday. It was Tuesday, so it was okay to take it slow - but the kind of slow they were going right now, Johnny could without sarcasm say was not going to get either of them a good grade.

It was a slow slide of mouth on mouth while they lay on the bed, Stéphane between Johnny's legs, moving languidly on top of him. Johnny could feel him everywhere in his body, down to the last little nerves in his fingertips, or the tip of his tongue to which Stéphane was touching his own.

He'd glanced over to the clock earlier when Stéphane'd nipped his jaw, sliding his fingers under Johnny's shirt, making him jump and open his eyes; it was about an hour of hard-core making-out now, and there still was nothing but kissing and the occasional touching. Johnny was hard beyond words and he wished Stéphane would move at least a little more, let Johnny rub against his thigh so that he could get the fuck off.

But no such luck. Stéphane kept his mouth occupied - so that he couldn't say anything, probably, Johnny grumbled inwardly - and the slide of their bodies was smooth and almost dreamy in its deliberation.

They kissed until Johnny was panting so hard he thought he might burst a lung trying to get air into his system, and then they parted, messily, red, puffy lips and shared spit all over their mouths.

He smiled happily. Okay, so, of course, he was kidding. This was great.

"Lots of biology today," Stéphane muttered into his neck as he laid back down.

"Good biology," Johnny grinned, kissing his ear. He let his hand slide down Stéphane's back, teased under his shirt and let the waistband of his boxershorts snap beneath his pants.

"Johnny," Stéphane warned, shifting away from his hand.

"We could explore some more," Johnny whispered. "You're all hard, we could -"

Stéphane sat up, brushing their groins together which made Johnny moan and Stéphane gasp in surprise, but he didn't seem too fazed by the jolt of desire running through both of them at the same time, much to Johnny's disappointment.

"I don't want to," he said softly.

Johnny pulled his hand away from his ass and put them both safely on Stéphane's hips, holding him so that he wouldn't get off the bed. "I know," he mumbled. "Sorry. I thought maybe we could, but if you don't want to, it's okay."

"I don't - I just, I know it's been a while -"

"Over a month now," Johnny said rather sharply, but then clamped his mouth shut, immediately feeling guilty. "Sorry. I - that wasn't supposed to come out all bitchy. I told you it's okay. I just don't understand, that's all. But then, I don't need to, right? You'll tell me if you decide you want to do more than just making out."

Stéphane leaned down above him, touching their foreheads together and pressed a kissed onto his chin, his lower lip. "It's - well, I'm only sixteen and we have a lot of time and I just don't want to rush it, right?"

"And this has nothing to do with you not trusting me about this, are you sure?"

"No," Stéphane said softly. "I trust you. I - wasn't sure at first if you really meant it or if you were just falling back on me because the other option was not -"

"Oh, fuck off, you know exactly -"

"That what?" Stéphane nudged him softly. "Say Evan had returned your feelings. Say Evan was gay and had returned that kiss and said he's okay going out with you. Would it have been a choice at all, then?"

Johnny glared. "I don't care. I don't know what I'd have done and stupid what-if games will drive you crazy if you keep them up. What if your parents had never come to America when you were a baby? What if the dinosaurs had survived whatever it was that killed them? What if the fucking world fell into the sun tomorrow? It's not a fucking game, okay? I'm with you now and so I haven't told you the stupid love stuff you want to hear yet, but so what?"

"It's not about that," Stéphane said, sitting back.

"Well, good. And if you're not lying, then that's all I wanted to know." Johnny sat up as well, huffing. There went a nice, happy evening of making-out some more.

"We should get to the studying," Stéphane mumbled.

Johnny bit his lip. "And now you're angry with me again!"

"I'm not angry with you."

"You are. You do that thing where your nose twitches and you bite the corner of your bottom lip when you're annoyed and don't want anyone to know!"

"I'm not annoyed with you," Stéphane repeated. "I'm annoyed with myself. Look, I want to have sex. I want to, just as much as you, but my head keeps saying I shouldn't yet, and it's my head that is the part of me that thinks rationally, not my dick."

Johnny gave a little laugh at that. "Are you saying I'm letting my dick do all the thinking?"

Stéphane gave him a sheepish glance. "Sometimes?"

"You're the worst boyfriend!" Johnny pouted, tumbling him back onto the bed. "You're supposed to flatter me!"

Stéphane grinned up at him from the new position, letting Johnny nuzzle his neck, breath speeding up. "Well, you know everything that I love about you already. How often do you want me to say it and inflate your ego?"

Johnny bit down, making him yelp. "I do not have an ego."

The giggle was partly the fault of the sudden tickle Johnny bestowed upon him under his shirt, part because his hair was tickling his neck and shoulder while he sucked on Stéphane's skin where his collarbone stuck out in a sharp angle.

"You're too skinny," Johnny said softly, breathing on the wet spot he'd left.

"You're one to talk," Stéphane pulled him up to kiss him properly.

Johnny let him kiss, let him kiss for another few moments, then pulled away and looked him in the eye, crisp and a little curious. "Stay the night?"

The reaction was instantaneous, he could feel Stéphane's cock harden against his stomach and smiled, nipped his ear.

"I - fuck, Johnny, you really shouldn't - I thought I told you -"

"We won't fuck," Johnny mumbled, caressing his stomach, dipping clever fingers into his belly button and traveling up to find his nipples. "We'll make out some more, maybe get some biology done and we can just sleep together. I promise I won't try anything. I can be a good boy if I put my mind to it."

"But - my mom -"

"We'll call her. I'm sure mine won't mind. You've stayed over before."

"But never when we were -"

"- it'll even be better, we won't have to get out the mattress, we can both sleep in my bed," Johnny said enthusiastically, rubbing over his skin with his thumb.

"This is such a bad idea," Stéphane whined, pushing against his hand.

"I know," Johnny grinned. "'s why I love it."

 

~*~

 

What didn't work out so well in the whole plan was the morning after. The fault lay with them, of course, or rather with Johnny and his inability to break out of habits like not locking the door because there usually was absolutely no need for that.

It was also his fault because, well, it wasn't like he could have actually done something, but he should have realized the warm body pressed against his back, arm over his chest and chestnut hair he had his nose buried in was not the usual state in which he woke up and therefore calling "C'mon in" when his mom knocked was not the ideal choice of action.

It was completely embarrassing, maybe even more so for his mom, however, the fact remained, his mom was hardcore when it came to stuff like this, so she didn't even blush. She blinked, looked them over - thank God for covers that hid morning wood - and said, "Ah, breakfast's ready and school's starting in a bit. You boys might want to get up."

And then, before she left, leaving Johnny beet-red in the face and gasping with mortification, she added, disapproving tone to her voice, "Stéphane might want to go home before you head to school, Johnny. And you might want to stay behind for a chat."

Johnny heard the door fall shut and fell back into the pillows, feeling his stomach contract with panic.

"Always with the door," Stéphane mumbled into his neck.

 

~*~

 

Stéphane left after breakfast, and, unfortunately, he'd hurried up with that as well, never looking Johnny's mom in the eye, embarrassed enough to blush every time their eyes met anyway, and that was why Johnny still had a good half hour left over before he had to make his way to school, which meant he wouldn't be able to push this particular little talk back in time.

"Mom," he mumbled when she marched him into the living room. Brian was watching them with huge eyes, still sitting in his seat, not quite getting what was going on.

"Johnny," she replied, exact same tone of voice as his own whine and that was a little more embarrassing even.

"We didn't do anything," Johnny blurted the moment he was sitting.

His mom tilted her head. "You slept together. I'd say that's something."

"We didn't have sex!" Johnny protested.

"That's good to hear," she said gently. "Because you're a little too young for sex yet, don't you think?"

Johnny snorted. "I'm seventeen."

"And Stéphane's sixteen, and you're boys, and I respect that. That is why we're having this talk."

"I don't need this talk," Johnny blurted. "Honestly, I know everything!"

"Oh," she smirked a bit. "Everything, huh?"

"I didn't mean it like that!" Johnny said petulantly. "I meant everything else. And also, why do I get this talk - again, because I distinctly remember sitting through one of those with dad when I was, like, twelve - and Brian gets to put his head in the sand? He's had a girlfriend for months now, too!"

"Too?" she raised her eyebrows.

Johnny felt himself flush. "We got together in September sometime. It's not a big deal, it's not like we do anything."

"But I have a feeling that might change, and I don't want you to go into this without having someone to talk to. So we'll do it my way, if you don't mind. And the other thing is - you're right, of course. Brian has a girlfriend, but she has never stayed past curfew, though she might, maybe, too, at some point, so we'll be gracious and include him."

Johnny stared. "Now?"

She shrugged. "Catch two flies at once, it's a good idea, actually. And I'm sure Brian will profit from the information on gay sex as much as you will on the information of heterosexual activities, so it's all square. Now - Brian!"

Johnny buried his face in his hands. "What do I have to do to get someone to beam me away from here?"

 

~*~

 

"You look pissed," Stéphane mumbled at him when Johnny sat down in his seat, glaring daggers at everyone who dared comment on his tardiness.

"I _am_ pissed," Johnny snapped, loud enough for the teacher to give him the evil eye.

"What happened?" Stéphane tried to calmly assess the situation.

"My mom happened," Johnny hissed. "I'll tell you later."

Later, during the break, they met up outside by the group of trees they sometimes sat beneath with their backpacks on their knees and Stéphane gave him a curious - and very guilty - look.

"First, she gave me the whole sex talk," Johnny muttered, embarrassed.

"She did?" It seemed to cheer Stéphane up slightly. It wasn't so long ago, Johnny remembered then, for him and Chris. Damn, he'd laughed about that, but payback was a bitch.

"Brian was squirming like hell when she talked about het sex, but dude, he went all pale when she started going about the gay." Johnny smiled humorlessly. "It wasn't pretty."

"I thought you guys got this whole thing from your dad before you hit puberty?" Stéphane frowned. "I remember you bitching about it back then, too."

"Hah, funny," Johnny glared. "But we did, of course. Except not in this much detail."

Stéphane winced. "Fuck."

"That's not even the worst part," Johnny finally ground out.

"It's not?"

"No. She made herself pretty clear. Fuck, moms can be such a pain sometimes. You can't sleep over in my bed anymore."

Stéphane looked up at that. "She said that?" He swallowed. "Is it because of the gay thing?"

Johnny shook his head. "It's because of the underage-thing. She said we're too young to be having sex, and the easiest way to keep that from happening is to make us sleep in seperate beds." He snorted again. "Like that's gonna help if two people are really desperate. We could be getting it on in filthy school bathrooms and she wouldn't know."

Stéphane stared. "You do remember that we're not actually having sex, don't you?"

"Believe me, I do!" Johnny snapped. "But she thinks we'll yet get there if she gives us any more opportunity. Obviously, she doesn't know you."

"Do you need me to give you a minute?" Stéphane replied coolly. "Because I really don't need to listen to this. Especially from you. I can go, you know?"

"Fuck, no, don't go. Sorry. Damn, I'm so wound up," Johnny whispered. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm just so angry that she can just tell me not to sleep with you and I can't do anything about it! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to let it out on you."

Stéphane nodded courtly.

"I don't get her, though," Johnny complained. "She usually really gets stuff like this. Why's she so stubborn about this? You can stay over if you want, she said, but one of us would have to take the couch or swap with Brian - and I doubt Brian'll want to share the bed with me again, like we did when we were really small kids, back before we got the house."

"At the moment, I'd probably prefer sharing the bed with Brian over you anyway," Stéphane scowled.

"Yeah?" Johnny gave him a dark look. Suddenly, he didn't feel like dealing with his boyfriend anymore at all. "Well, then have fucking fun making out with him," he snapped, annoyed, and stalked away, leaving Stéphane standing by the trees on his own. There was no need to get smart about this whole mess, after all, and least of all he wanted to hear it from Stéphane.

 

~*~

 

Johnny hadn't actually meant to run off in a huff, but sometimes, these things just happened with him and he couldn't control them, and he felt damn bad about them afterwards, but then, the damage was already done.

Stéphane ignored him for the rest of the day after that. Johnny tried to catch his attention a few times, but after the fifth time Stéphane turned around and buried his head in his book, Johnny gave up.

It was no wonder he found himself back in the rink in the afternoon with a big 'fuck you' attitude towards the world in general and his mom and Stéphane in particular.

He skated a few hours, blew off some steam, then went back home. What he had was a thought, he admitted, that was no more than half-formed by then, and he had really not much of an idea what it was even supposed to accomplish, but by the time he realized that, he'd already put on a couple more sweaters and his jacket again and was hastening out without throwing his mom a second glance. He wasn't hungry anyway, so skipping dinner was not that big a deal.

The thing was, she'd said he wasn't allowed to let anyone sleep over - and that was fine; after all, it was, theoretically, her bed, and her roof, and she could tell him what to do; but he didn't want to do what she told him, he wanted to do what he wanted to do, and for that, he decided, it would be best to show everyone that he could and would do whatever he thought was best.

Why the fuck he'd thought staying out all night would accomplish the feat was the other question, but it wasn't particularly one Johnny posed himself while he walked around their town in the cover of the night. There were more people around than he'd thought would be, especially on a school night when most teenagers should be at home or in bed. But since it was adventure night, Johnny wasn't scared to look around, check out the neighbourhood at night.

He got quite a scare when a guy ran into him once, and it almost made his breath stop when he thought about what might happen to him out here while nobody knew where he was - and then a second scare when he almost stepped right onto a place that a few seconds later was occupied by a drunkenly staggering group of guys on their way to the next club, fighting amongst themselves. He quickly made himself scarce without them ever noticing him.

It was good eleven o'clock when he decided to go to a bar for the rest of the night. It was too cold anymore to stand around, and he thought his fingers might freeze off, even though it was only November. Still, his toes needed a break, and a warm drink sounded heavenly.

After that, Johnny held out till almost two. He was half-falling off his chair when the girl - woman, at least in her early thirties - who'd been serving for the past hour or so, finally tipped his forehead and said, "I have no idea how you managed to charm your way past the other bartenders, but aren't you a bit young to be hanging around here at this time?"

Johnny shook his head. "'m old enough," he mumbled, sleepy.

"What year were you born in, then?" she asked with an impish smile.

"Dunno," Johnny shrugged. "I'll get back to you once I can count again properly."

Her face changed, hardened suddenly. "You didn't have any alcohol, though, did you?" She leaned closer, sniffed. "Doesn't smell like it. Because if someone here served you alcohol, I'll be taking their heads off -"

"Juice," Johnny smiled. "And coffee. And cocoa. And then juice again. Your coffee tastes hideous."

"No, honey," the woman snorted. "All coffee tastes hideous. And you should really be getting home. Do you need me to call you a cab?"

"No," Johnny sighed. "I'm going, I'm going." He managed to wipe himself off the floor when he fell off his chair and blinked. "That felt weird."

"You sure you're okay?"

"I'll be fine." Except what kind of stupid-ass idea had this been, damnit? Staying out all night. Where was he going to go now? The bar would be closing soon, and they wanted him out anyway, and defying his mom in this matter really wasn't worth freezing his ass off for.

And then, the solution suddenly came to him as he stepped outside into the cutting breeze of ice-cold wind. Of course, it was all Stéphane's fault in the first place. He'd made it all so complicated, wanting to become boyfriends and stuff, so he'd have to put Johnny up now. Just for tonight. Anyway, Stéphane was a good friend, even if he was a bit miffed right now, he wouldn't throw Johnny out.

Johnny blinked again, still feeling sleepy and very relaxed and just that little bit guilty about lying to the nice bar lady about his drinks. Someone had served him a margarita or two, or something like it in any case, lemony and with a taste of alcohol that had burned its way right down his throat.

He hadn't especially liked it, but it had made his head dizzy and also, feeling less cold and anxious about what he'd done.

Getting to Stéphane's place seemed to take an eternity, and so did walking around the house to the back. He knew which window was Stéphane's, he'd looked out of it often enough, and while usually, his throw-arm wasn't strong, somehow, it had evened out over the past few months and it was no problem at all to treat Stéphane's window with a couple of tiny rocks from the ground.

Stéphane took his sweet time until he opened, then he caught sight of Johnny below, asked, "What the fuck, Johnny?" into the night, before saying, "Fuck, wait there, I'm coming down," and that was how Johnny found his way inside Stéphane's house at about half past two in the morning.

 

~*~

 

"What do you think you're playing at?" Stéphane bitched him out when they were back in Stéphane's room later.

"Dunno," Johnny mumbled, climbing into his bed unasked and pulling the covers over him, shivering. "I didn't want to go home."

"Fuck," Stéphane swore. "Fuck, don't tell me you did what I actually think you did and started a fucking tug-of-war about power with your mom."

Johnny shrugged. "I'm not letting her tell me what I can do. She's being unreasonable and stubborn."

"I could name someone else with those qualities," Stéphane mumbled. "Seems to run in the family, that."

"Very funny," Johnny glared. Then he subsided and asked, sullenly, "I'm cold. Are you still mad at me?"

Stéphane sat down on his chair and bit his lip. "I don't know. I guess, yeah."

"Why? I'm fighting in your interest here, too!" Johnny argued. He thought he was surprisingly coherent, for someone who'd tipsily fallen off his chair not an hour ago.

"You're not," Stéphane finally contradicted him. "You're just trying to prove that you can do whatever you want to your mom and it's not really working. Look, I get that you're annoyed and frustrated and... I don't know."

"I am that," Johnny nodded, serious. "I'd be less so if you'd come here and give me a kiss. But you won't, will you?"

Stéphane shook his head. "Johnny..." he tried again. "I kind of get your mom about this. She's right saying we're a bit young for - stuff. I think so, too. If you really want to -just- sleep with me, you can come over any time and we can do that, but I think maybe staying the night really wasn't such a good idea anyway."

Johnny gave him a hurt look. "You didn't like it?"

Stéphane flushed. "That's not it at all; I might have liked it a little too much."

"Oh." Johnny's shoulders slumped, relief suddenly coursing through him. "Really?"

"Yeah," Stéphane shrugged, embarrassed. "Really." And then he added, "I think we should call your mom now."

"Hm," Johnny said. "Maybe." He didn't want to think about the verbal trashing that was awaiting him, though. Not that he couldn't take it, but damn, he really didn't want to hear it.

"I'll go get the phone."

Johnny curled up deeper into the sheets, seeking the warmth and enjoying Stéphane's smell all around him, and tried not to think about what his mom'd say. He still thought he was right, though.

 

~*~

 

They woke at the ring of the alarm, which Stéphane had timed to be early enough for Johnny to be able to sneak out without anyone seeing him. They were entangled and warm and pressed against each other in all kinds of places and Johnny thought he really was starting to get used to this and would miss it horribly the next night.

"You have to go," Stéphane mumbled into his mouth while they kissed.

"Uh-huh. In a sec."

"No, right now. I'll tell my mom that you slept over, but after you're gone, kay?"

Johnny looked up at that, narrowing his eyes. Something about the words, maybe the tone of voice or the pronounciation caught his attention and he thought there was something he ought to ask here, but he couldn't think of anything, so he decided to round up his suspicion for now.

"Okay," he said instead and rolled over and onto Stéphane for another kiss.

A kiss too soon interrupted when Stéphane pushed him off and smiled. "You really need to go now, I promised your mom you'd go home before school."

"Oh, shut up, I don't want to think about that." But he did, and he thought about it a lot while he dressed and put on his shoes and went outside to walk home.

 

~*~

 

Of course, if one arrives at the battlefield armed for war, it's almost certain that it's war they'll get. In Johnny's case, that was no yelling or screaming and certainly no long speeches. The moment Johnny tried to sneak up the steps to his room, his mom appeared at the foot of the stairs.

"Good morning," she said calmly.

"Hi, mom."

"You are so grounded, young man, I doubt any child on earth has ever been grounded like this before."

"You can't do that," Johnny said.

"Oh, you bet I can do that. You'll be marching to school and back and nothing more for the foreseeable future." When Johnny opened his mouth to protest again, she shook her head and interrupted, "and no discussion."

"It's not fair," Johnny pointed out. "You never said I couldn't spend the night at Stéphane's, only that he can't stay here!"

"Keep talking," his mom said coolly. "You've just gotten yourself a ban from the rink as well."

Johnny stared, open-mouthed, horrified at the prospect, then, furious, he turned around and stalked upstairs.

 

~*~

 

Stéphane was a little too quiet for Johnny's taste during break while they ate their sandwiches sitting on one of the benches outside the school building. Most students remained inside these days, since the wind was cold and the weather turning for the worse, greyish skies and raindrops drizzling from above, but today, it was clear and the air was cold, but fresh and Stéphane didn't seem to mind sitting ouside either.

"We should go out to the movies this evening," Johnny suddenly said.

Stéphane's head shot up. "What?"

"Movies. We haven't been in ages. There should be something nice in the theater, right? And we haven't even really been on a date before. I thought it might be nice."

A slow smile spread over Stéphane's face. "You really want to?"

Johnny shrugged, suddenly embarrassed. It seemed weird, asking Stéphane out on a date, but then, it wasn't nearly as scary as most people made this whole dating crap out to be, which could be something to do with the fact, of course, that they were friends. Some things were easier too, he then realized. It was a relief.

Stéphane ducked his head, blushing. "Thanks."

Johnny felt immediately guilty. Here he was, waging a war with his mother, and Stéphane was thanking him for being thoughtful. The thought made his stomach flip uncomfortably. Still, he could hardly say that, so he nodded and grimaced. "Now just hope something good's coming, because I'm not watching Planet of the Apes with you."

Stéphane grinned. "More of a Pearl Harbour fan, then?"

Johnny glowered. "Fuck off."

 

~*~

 

This time, Johnny didn't wait till the parents were asleep or anything like that, and he didn't even try to be quiet about going out for the evening.

Brian caught him as Johnny left his room, complete in his I'll-be-fucking-tonight-and-there's-nothing-you-can-do-about-it outfit.

"Dude," he said softly. "You're grounded!"

Johnny glared. "And that's your business how?"

"Mom's going to kill you and despire all signs to the contrary, I actually do like having a big brother. Even if it's a big gay brother."

Johnny smacked a big kiss on his cheek. "Thanks, baby. I appreciate the love."

Brian let go of him immediately, wiping at his cheek. "Ugh, sometimes, you're just disgusting."

"And sometimes, you're too fucking scared."

"Well, maybe you should be a little more scared. I'm not sure what mom'll do if she finds out you've snuck out to - do what, anyway?" Brian's eyes travelled over Johnny's thight black leather trousers and his snug jacket.

"Date," Johnny said courtly.

Brian opened his mouth, taken aback. "If you fuck around on Stéphane, I'll kill you myself."

Johnny smacked him, this time with no kiss but with his hand, over his head. "Don't be stupid. We're going to the movies. Together. And I won't be fucking anyone anytime soon, so it seems, and mom was like, totally overreacting anyway."

Brian cocked his eyebrow. "You sure about that? You look like you're hoping to get lucky tonight."

"I wish," Johnny sighed. "But don't worry, I'll be coming home after. Stéphane's too good an influence, and anyway, he said he'd kick me out if I tried going over there again."

"Not like that's going to help your case any," Brian sighed. "But you know what, you'll do whatever you want anyway, so why am I even trying?"

Johnny shrugged. "Beats me." But he did try to be quieter when he left.

 

~*~

 

They made out some during the date, sitting in the dark that was the cinema, in the back row, watching a movie that seemed to have passed its expiration date, but Johnny still had the feeling something was vaguely off about the way Stéphane was behaving.

He just couldn't put his finger on it.

It hit him when they went for a bite to the Mexican restaurant what was going on; usually a pile of cheery chatter and giggles and laughter, today Stéphane was downright mute. There was no sign about him that he was angry or irritated or even upset at Johnny, so it was very strange indeed.

Maybe, Johnny thought, he wasn't getting it, though. So he asked. "Is something the matter?"

Stéphane looked up from his fajita surprised. "Hm?"

"Is something going on that I should know about? You seem dead moody."

"Oh, no. I'm just thinking. It's not a big deal."

"What are you thinking about?"

Stéphane gave him a dry little grin. "You."

Johnny snorted. "Don't be cute. Seriously, if there's something bothering you, you should tell me."

"It's nothing," Stéphane said quietly, dropping the grin, which usually meant it was something. "It's not like you need any more trouble on your plate anyway, Johnny. Let it go?"

Johnny shook his head. "It's fine. I mean, I rant at you when something's going on, and - I'm here, right, and I'll listen, I promise, so you can tell me. It seems to be getting to you, and maybe I can help."

Stéphane cleared his throat, took a sip of his drink. Then he looked Johnny straight in the eye and said, "Okay, let me rephrase that. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to talk to you about it, or to anyone else. So please. Let it go."

Johnny recoiled, hurt. "Fine," he simply said, trying to keep his voice level. "Be that way."

The rest of the evening was, if that was even possible, laden with more tension and awkwardness. Johnny was kind of glad he had decided to go home afterwards.

 

~*~


	2. Chapter 2

When Johnny returned home, it was almost eleven pm. There was light on in the kitchen; when Johnny glaced inside, he was completely taken by surprise to see his dad sitting at the table with his mom.

He couldn't stay away, after that. He'd actally planned to just go upstairs and go to bed, acting like nothing had happened and see what his mom would say, but this changed everything.

He slinked inside, mouth set, arms crossed over his chest. His parents looked up at once, together, at him, and he saw his mom's lips press together into a thin line at his outfit.

"Dad," Johnny said softly. "Why're you back already?"

"I thought it might be a good idea to cut my physical rehabilitation program short to come home for a while," his dad said, looking at him through careful eyes.

Johnny bit his lip. "I'm sorry." Suddenly, he felt inredibly guilty for playing a fucking mind-game while his parents had so much more important things to do than entertain him. He felt like being sick all over the kitchen floor.

"I'm not saying you have nothing to be sorry for," his dad said gently, "but I came back mainly because I missed my family. All right?"

Johnny felt the tears press against the backs of his eyes and pushed them back down ruthlessly, as he'd learned so early in life. Crying just didn't do any good. "Are you feeling better at least?" he asked weakly, still not looking his mom in the eyes.

"My back's not giving me too much trouble right now," his dad nodded. "We'll see how well that goes. And at least, I can walk short distances again."

Johnny breathed out. "Does Brian know? He'll want to know you're back." He felt like shifting from one leg to the other, awkwardness of the situation biting into his flesh like a wild animal with very sharp teeth.

"We'll tell him in the morning. He's already asleep in his room. I came back a bit later than planned. There were a few complications with the payment. It's all settled now, though."

"Oh." Johnny swallowed. "I - I was just to the theater with - with Stéphane, but - but I'm sorry. I wouldn't have gone if I'd known -"

"Go to bed, Johnny. You've got school tomorrow," his mom interrupted. "We'll talk about it later."

Johnny swallowed again. "Uh - good night."

He felt like throwing up all the way to bed and then, when he lay down, he couldn't fall asleep.

 

~*~

 

"I'm sorry," Johnny said the next morning when he sat down on his seat in math class, at the back of the room, next to Stéphane. He kept his voice low, even though there were only few students already there, most of them up front, talking amongst themselves.

Stéphane looked up, gave him a small, unbelieving smile. "Really?"

"Yeah." Johnny slipped closer with his chair, bit his lip, scared, but hurrying on, because he'd promised himself. "I'm sorry, because I was a complete hypocrite last night and you should know."

Stéphane narrowed his eyes. "What did you do?"

"I was mad at you for not wanting to tell me; but at least, you told me the truth. I lied. I didn't tell you anything at all, I - I was actually grounded last night."

Stéphane jerked back as if Johnny'd punched him in the stomach. "You - you're kidding," he whispered.

"I'm really sorry." Johnny swallowed heavily. At least he didn't have to explain, at least, Stéphane got immediately what he meant without having to say it out loud.

"You - I actually thought you were being all - I thought it was a date with me! And you asked me out because you wanted to get back at your mom? You - I cannot believe you, Johnny. That is so insulting, I can't even begin to say what the fuck I'm thinking about you in my head right now, but I swear, it's not pretty."

"I told you, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I did go out to be with you, I swear."

"But you were grounded and you shouldn't have. Damnit, Johnny, how can you be so stupid?"

"I'm not stupid," Johnny snapped. "It's not like I didn't want to go out with you or anything, I wanted to, and by now you should know that I seriously like you and like spending time with you. So I had ulterior motives last night, but at least, I told you, right? Doesn't that count for anything?"

Stéphane stared. "It counts," he said then. "But that doesn't mean I have to actually talk to you for the next few days."

And that was that. A blink later, Stéphane was closed off as ever whenever he was furious with Johnny. Johnny returned to his table with a feeling that this day couldn't actually get worse.

 

~*~

 

Friday, Johnny bombed the Biology test so thoroughly that a F, he thought, might actually be a favour. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the paper, trying not to think about anything at all but Biology, but it didn't really work out that way.

He hadn't been able to study either, last night. Maybe he could talk with his teacher later, explain about his situation - if he played the parents card right, she might give him a second chance. After all, she was a nice person - unlike Stéphane, who at the moment was refusing any and all attempts to request a second chance.

At least, his mom couldn't be bothered to enforce the grounding now that his dad was home, so he was able to go to the rink and was absoluteley surprised to find Evan practicing, when it wasn't even his usual day-of-the-week.

"What're you doing here?" he asked when he stepped on the ice and Evan skated by closely.

"Getting my head clear," Evan grinned. "I fucked up the test today. Not as thoroughly as you did, from what I've seen, but still."

"Yeah well," Johnny shrugged. "I have stuff going on right now."

Evan rolled his eyes. "And you think you're the only one? Newsflash, other people have problems, too."

"Not like me," Johnny pouted.

"I'm sure about that, at least. What did you do, may I ask?"

"Which part do you want to hear, is the question."

"Well, the only part I know is the boyfriend ignoring you all day," Evan shrugged. "Not that I'm an expert on relationships, my own has been a bit rocky lately as well, but I can still listen, right?"

Johnny gave him a strange look. "See, that's usually Stéphane's task." He kicked the ice, annoyed. "Fuck, I just want him to talk to me again."

Evan grinned. "You know, that is almost sweet. If it wasn't completely puke-worthy."

"Oh, shut up."

"No, seriously, what did you do?"

"I want a puppy."

"He's mad at you because you want a puppy? I knew he was a bit on the posessive side, but isn't that a little -"

"- oh, fuck off, Evan. I want a puppy so I can rant at it... at least it won't make lame comments back at me." Johnny scowled.

"My comments are not lame. And also, a puppy wouldn't listen to this garbage, anyway. It would give you a haughty look and stalk away. Actually, from what I've seen, it could probably learn from you on this one."

"I'm not laughing." Johnny glared.

"But if you continue giving me that look, you'll be on your ass very soon," Evan pushed. "Just tell me what's eating at you, and then I'll show you a new spin."

"Fine," Johnny said. "I'll tell you." He waited till he had Evan's attention, then said, "I want to have sex."

Evan gaped. "What?"

Johnny batted his eyelashes. "And since Stéphane's not putting out and you've so generously offered your help -"

"All right, that's it. Back to practice," Evan interrupted, sticking his fingers in his ears. "I don't want to hear it."

"See?" Johnny grinned. "I told you, if you don't want to know, don't ask."

 

~*~

 

He texted Stéphane, that afternoon, ' _Please, don't be angry anymore with me?_ ' because Evan had told him begging in fact, _was_ an option, and then, later that evening, _'You can't be pissed off at me forever. It'll pass and then you'll want to make out again and then I might just be annoyed at you_ '.

At least, that got a reaction out of Stéphane. He wrote back, ' _Fuck off_.'

Johnny grinned. Progress. Now only about half a day more of grovelling and maybe, if he could get close, he could nuzzle Stéphane's neck and it would be okay again.

Then he packed the cell phone away and went downstairs to apologize to his mom for behaving like a complete asshole. It was awkward and embarrassing and completely strange to be that way with her, because she usually always made him feel safe and happy and grateful for having such damn cool parents, but again, she embarrassed him even more by pulling him into a hug and murmuring into his hair that he'd have to behave a litte better in future, but mostly, he was forgiven.

The tears still stung in his eyes half an hour later when he was fighting Brian for the remote control.

 

~*~

 

"What _is_ wrong with you?" Brian finally asked when later in the evening, Johnny followed him into his room and climbed into bed with him. He pushed at Johnny's shoulder a little, but not nearly hard enough to make Johnny believe he really wanted him gone.

Johnny pulled down a pillow and hugged it, staring at Brian morosely. "Stéphane's mad at me and he's not communicating. But communication is the key and I'm kind of at a loss what to do, because I've been texting him all evening and he's not replying."

Brian pursed his lips. "I should hit you. You keep making him all hurty."

"Hey, he told me hurty stuff too!" Johnny protested. "Or better, he didn't tell me stuff. And that hurt."

"What didn't he tell you?"

Johnny gave him an incredulous look. "If I knew, I wouldn't be upset about it, now, would I?"

Brian shrugged. "I thought you might know and that's why you were so strange." Then he gave a sigh. "At least mom's no longer thinking about taking your head off... or mine. You made up with her?"

Johnny tugged at the covers and nodded. "I guess." He gave a half-shrug. "Everyone's mad at me, and I hate it when people are mad at me. Evan's not mad, but then, Evan only ever talks to me when we're at the rink and no-one from school's watching."

"I'm not mad at you," Brian mumbled. Then bared his teeth. "And stop it, you gay freak, you're making me all soppy. I hate you."

Johnny laughed and tumbled him over, attacking him with a hug. Brian protested, but really, he didn't mean it at all. He did not, however, let Johnny sleep in his bed, no matter how much Johnny begged.

 

~*~

 

The next morning, Johnny figured he might as well go over to Stéphane's to finally get back in his good graces. After all, this was by far not the worst thing Johnny could have done, and Stéphane was upset almost three days now. He never was upset longer than that, anyway, and he was quick to forgive if Johnny put a little effort into being sorry, especially.

"Morning," he mumbled, still a little sleepy when he entered the kitchen. His mom and his dad were eating breakfast already, his dad as always reading the paper, his mom drinking coffee, writing numbers into her notebook from work.

"Morning, Johnny," his dad said, and his mom gave him a quick smile before going back to her book.

"You gotta go work today?" Johnny asked bleakly while he went for the hot chocolate.

"Have to," she replied. "Probably have to stay out longer today, too, there was some kind of accident and they need someone who can coordinate things." She bit her pen, thoughtful.

"Is it okay if I stay over at Stéphane's then, if he'll have me?" Johnny cautiously inched forward to ask.

His mom looked up at that, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked, while his dad said, "Don't see why that should be a problem."

"Ah," Johnny said, confused. "What now?"

His mom gave him a look and turned to his dad. "Stéphane's his boyfriend, hon."

Johnny watched his dad frown, confused. "Wait, wait, there was this one lad coming over sometimes, your friend, his name was Stéphane, but -"

Johnny felt himself flush. "It's just recent," he mumbled.

"Oh. Hm. Do Stéphane's parents know about the two of you dating?"

"Hm-hm," Johnny said, recapping if Stéphane'd ever said anything about it. "I think so? I guess? And it's just Stéphane's mom, his dad died five years ago in a car crash, remember?"

"And you'll be careful, right?"

" _Dad_!" Johnny blurted, reddening even more. "That's not -"

"All right, all right, I was just asking. I don't mind, but your mom seems not convinced," his dad finally said, glancing at Johnny's mom.

"It's not like I can really make you do anything, can I?" she said, rather wryly.

Johnny licked his lips. "I just - I just thought since last time went so badly, maybe... and anyway, it's not like I didn't tell you already you don't need to worry so much about stuff, right?"

His mom smiled a bit. "Is that your way of promising me you won't be rushing into the sex part?"

Johnny felt his face heat up for the third time this morning, but he did nod, because, well, even if he himself didn't think they were rushing anything, Stéphane apparently disagreed, so he could safely promise.

 

~*~

 

Afternoon broke close and that was when Johnny finally made his way over to the bakery. He thought it might be a good idea to fight his way inside the house from the side Stéphane least expected and if Stéphane was working, well, all the better. He wouldn't be able to take a break.

But Stéphane wasn't working, Christophe was, so Johnny entered a little more cautiously.

"Hey, Johnny," Chris greeted him, and he hadn't taken out the shotgun upon sight, so Johnny thought the situation might yet be redeemable.

On the other hand, that might have been because there were two other customers in the shop, so nothing was won yet.

"How's things?" Johnny replied, stepping close, not showing his apprehension.

"Everything's okay, as far as I know." But there was something off in Chris' tone and he sounded like he wanted to say something but wasn't allowed. "Hey, sorry, I'd love to chat, but I got work," he muttered then.

Johnny nodded. "Stéphane upstairs?"

"Yeah. Yeah, he is, but, Johnny?" Chris glanced at the customers once more, one of which was still reading the prices off the tags, one of which was browsing about by the tea selection they offered, and waved Johnny closer. "Dude, Stéphane has been completely off his game those past few days, and I have no idea why, but he's not talking to mom, so maybe they had a fight. Be careful, right, and don't take his mood personally?"

Johnny had been expecting threats ranging from a chopped-off head up to castration, but not that. He blinked. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Chris nodded. "Just, you know." He rolled his eyes and whispered, "Just get him laid or something, maybe he'll have a more moderate temper after that."

Huh. Johnny blinked again, completely taken by surprise by this turn of events and shook his head before he headed upstairs. Very strange indeed.

 

~*~

Stéphane turned his head when he heard the door open and Johnny saw him put down the pen he'd been writing with.

"Hey," Johnny greeted softly.

"This is becoming a habit," Stéphane muttered, clearly annoyed. "Who the fuck let you in?"

"Still angry, then, huh?" Johnny winced.

"Do I look overjoyed to see you?"

"Ah... no."

"So what are you still doing here?"

"I just wanted to know what was going on. Look, I told you, I'm really sorry. I don't want you to be mad at me about something this stupid. I even made up with my mom -"

"- you did?"

"Yeah. I... well, I guess I behaved like a real ass and stuff."

"You did _that_ ," Stéphane said dryly.

"Yeah..." Johnny stepped inside his room fully and closed the door behind himself hesitantly. "I said I'm sorry, didn't I? What else am I supposed to do?"

"Nothing," Stéphane said and went back to writing, ignoring him.

Johnny bit his lip. For a few minutes, he just lingered in the background, staring, unsure what else he could do, then, as his usual swift decision-making set in, he stepped towards Stéphane, crouched down behind his chair and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck.

"Fucking hell, stop it," Stéphane batted him away.

"I won't," Johnny smiled against his ear, licking. "You'll have to forgive me, because I bet you're not really angry anymore, you're just playing hard to get so I'll stand around and beg and grovel, because that turns you on, admit it."

Stéphane gasped when Johnny licked over his pulse point, but managed to push at his shoulder when Johnny tried to settle onto his lap by swinging his leg over to the other side. "Stop it, damn you, I'm trying to -"

"- you're trying to make me suffer more than I actually deserve, so fuck you," Johnny singsonged and stayed stubbornly sitting on him, quick fingers pulling his shirt out of his jeans and searching underneath for skin while his mouth closed over Stéphane's protesting lips.

He could feel Stéphane grow at least half-hard against his ass and shifted slightly, making the friction grow. A jolt of pleasure snapped through his body at the sensation, made him tense and shiver with the sudden heat rolling over his body in waves.

Stéphane managed to part their lips to glare at him, and then, when Johnny fastened onto his neck again, licking his path down towards his collarbone, he said, "Fuck," and then, again, "Fuck, this is so on you," and he got up, putting his arms around Johnny so that he wouldn't fall on his ass.

Johnny immediately crossed his legs behind Stéphane's hips, and when Stéphane made the few steps towards his bed, he felt every one of them pulse through his body like an addictive drug. Stéphane didn't care that Johnny's teeth rattled when they both fell upon the covers, or that Johnny did not like the aggressive way by which he suddenly started to kiss, passionate and thrusting his tongue inside Johnny's mouth as if he was already fucking him on the bed.

Their hips rocked together once, and Johnny gasped, then moaned as his cock hardened painfully, and he felt Stéphane give a little groan into his mouth. Then, because it'd felt so good, they tried again, and a third time, each time better, more sensations, more dazzling awareness, until they found a rhythm, as if listening to the same song.

His stomach tightened like a spring, a completely new and desperate need to keep going, to return the mauling he was receiving. He felt his feet settle, seeking leverage against the rocking of Stéphane's hips, tried to get as much friction as possible against his cock, tried to rub his cock into the hard bulge of Stéphane's pants. Stéphane was whispering in his ear, "fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," and Johnny could hardly draw a breath in between agreeing inwardly and trying not to forget himself and coming from just the sweet grating and grinding of their bodies.

What jerked Johnny out of the hormone-driven haze he was in at long last was the fact that all of a sudden, without much question or hesitation, Stéphane had his pants unbuttoned and was shoving his hand down his underwear, palming him with a certainty that came from year-long practice of being a boy. Johnny felt himself buckle against his hand, almost catching him in the face with his elbow, and just barely managed not to come on the spot, with warm fingers around his dick and Stéphane's thumb flicking over the head with just one aim in mind.

"Stop," he managed, pushing Stéphane off his mouth forcefully enough to make him tumble sideways. "Fucking hell, what was that?" He was puffing and heaving for breath, winded and forcing the words out.

Stéphane stared at him, challenge in his eyes. The fire behind was all-engulfing and almost made Johnny fall back into the game, almost made him reach over to pull Stéphane back onto his own body to feel their chests press together and Stéphane's hard cock against his stomach. But then, he couldn't. He couldn't because this was not the way he wanted to have sex, a quick passionate tumble between the sheets - and maybe, if he was lucky, Stéphane wouldn't even throw him out afterwards. Because, he'd almost forgotten, Stéphane was still mad at him. There was no way they were sleeping together, coming together, while Stéphane was still hurt.

"What's going on?" he repeated when he had his breathing under control. His lip hurt, and when he licked over it with his tongue, he realized Stéphane had bitten him hard enough to make him bleed.

Stéphane glared then, tried to kiss him again, but Johnny held him off, touched his jaw with his fingers and held him just close enough that they were touching comfortably, that warmth was seeping between them from his skin to Stéphane's and the other way around, but not so close that his cock - still aching and begging him to reconsider, let Stéphane put his hand back on it - would get any more ideas.

"You can't just jump me like this and initiate a round of almost-sex that you've been holding off on for weeks now and expect me not to say anything," Johnny argued logically. "Stéphane. Don't be a complete ass, please?" Stéphane tried to get away from his hands, but Johnny didn't let him, just kissed him sweetly on the cheek. "Please?"

There was a huff, exhale of breath from Stéphane, then he spat, with a little more venom than Johnny expected, "Don't. Don't be all precious. I really don't need that right now. I'm giving you what you wanted, right? I'd have totally had sex with you - so why are you fucking stopping?"

"Because you're angry with me. And if I hadn't, you would have been even more angry with me later, and fine, so sometimes my judgement is seriously off, but I know this isn't right."

"Yeah, well." Stéphane snorted. "I think it's right. I think it's perfectly hilarious, actually. I think it fits just awesomely that I should be fucking you in my room about the same time my mom's entertaining her asshole boyfriend downstairs. How's that for payback, Johnny?"

Johnny stared. "You - wait, your mom has a boyfriend? Since when? Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Yeah, sure, catch on to the wrong thing, why don't you?" Stéphane hit his arm. "I was trying to fucking hurt you here."

Johnny stared some more. Then he grimaced and rubbed his forehead. "I don't think I get what you're trying to do, but then, I'm still hung up on the part where your mom has a boyfriend." Also, his trousers were still unbuttoned, and they were still kind-of touching, kind-of snuggling, because Johnny was not letting go his hold on Stéphane, so that wasn't really helping his hard-on going away either.

Stéphane swore, quite impressively, too, turned and tried to throw off Johnny's grip, face flushing, but Johnny just shook his head and pulled him back down. "You're not getting away now, we're in your room, after all, so where would you even run to?"

"I wasn't going to run," Stéphane muttered.

"No, I bet you were just going for a cup of coffee and a condom. Fucking hell, Stéphane, cut the crap. I don't get you right now. What's going on? What am I missing - or rather, what are you not telling me?"

"You won't understand."

"Try me."

"You won't. Your parents are actually cool. Your parents are all fine with us being together and you play childish tug-a-wars with your mom about _staying out all night_? And it's not a problem in the end, either, apparently, because you get your fucking way, and hey, I bet you came here even with permission to stay over all night, right?"

Johnny flushed in sudden anger. "You're not making me feel guilty about my parents being okay with me being gay. You're not, so you can stop while you're ahead."

Stéphane finally tugged free and sat up, burying his face in his knees, put his arms around them. "I hate you."

The anger dwindled immediately. Johnny stared at his friend, confused, unable to figure out a way to help, or even understand what was going on. "I thought your mom was okay with you being gay," he finally muttered.

"She is!" Stéphane snapped, not looking up. "But the guy she's been dating for _months_ now is not, and since he found out about a week ago, he's been behaving like I have a fucking disease and I don't want to have to act like nothing's wrong anymore!"

"Aw, shit," Johnny said. "Shit, really? I didn't know - why didn't you say? Why didn't you tell me?" He crawled over and put his arms around Stéphane, hugging him as well as he could.

"Because I can guess what you'll say," Stéphane mumbled. "You'll tell me what an idiot I'm being putting up with it and that I should tell my mom and that I shouldn't acting like everything's okay."

"Well... yeah." Johnny winced. "I mean... it's what we do, don't we? We never take this kind of shit, not from the guys at school, not from the teachers, not from anyone, so - so why is - oh. Oh."

"Yeah." Stéphane sniffed a little, still not looking up. "She's actually happy with him. And I liked him, too, I really did, I ... he's nice. He doesn't - but then he found out and now - and I just want her to be happy, okay?"

"So you can't say anything," Johnny concluded, grimacing as if in pain.

"I won't," Stéphane said. "I won't, and you have to promise you won't tell anyone either!"

Johnny bit his lip. That was actually exactly not what he'd been planning, but...

"Johnny! You have to promise! She's happy with this man. I won't spoil it for her, I won't, and you won't either!"

"Don't you think she'd be more happy to know that you're happy?" Johnny asked softly.

"I don't care," Stéphane said sharply. "I don't care what stupid arguments you can think of, do you think I haven't thought of everything like that myself? Just fucking promise, or I swear I'll never tell you anything ever again!"

So that was that. "I promise," Johnny said morosely, but he didn't let go of Stéphane. Instead, he helped him unwind from his position and held him when Stéphane sighed, relieved at the promise, and in the end, he figured that he had a choice to make now.

The thing was, he didn't know which one of the two he had was worse.

~*~


End file.
